


Three Rows Back

by missema



Series: Sacraments [9]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunion Sex, Reunions, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in SR2 - Nothing is the same in Stilwater when the boss wakes up.  Even feeling she was once sure about, no longer seem to have a place. When her strange behavior catches Johnny's attention, Elle decides it's time to make a decision and talk to Troy.  After all, they have a lot to say to each other.</p>
<p>Written for the Saints Row Big Bang</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This part of the series was written for the Saint Row Big Bang 2015.  
> Thanks to my artist, kakumei and r0lf, my beta.  
> View kakumei's art piece here: http://kakumei.tumblr.com/post/127674941867/srbb-piece-of-thedivinemissemas-boss-elle-and

The reincarnation of the Third Street Saints were making much headway in a very short amount of time. Once Elle woke up and rescued Johnny, the two of them had been unstoppable as they reformed their gang. Johnny brought the lieutenants and Elle had the charm to get the followers from the street. They didn't even have as much as Julius had when he'd found her, but they found that it didn't matter much to the people that joined them. They just wanted to be a part of something that wasn't being sold by Ultor or pushed down their throats by one of the other gangs in Stilwater. All that time lying in a coma, and shit hadn't really changed at all, except there was less purple on the streets these days than there had been back in the day. That was about to change.

A lot was going to change around town, but some shit was always the same. Elle was keeping secrets, but this time, Johnny was sure he knew what it was. Well, he was sure, because he'd followed her. Back when he first met her, it was her impenetrable silence that kept her secrets. He wasn't any more sure what to do with her than he had been when they'd first met. So Johnny asked Shaundi about it, and she agreed to come with him to look after the Boss, because the last thing they needed was for her to get hurt or locked up when she'd just come back.

The morning that he and Shaundi tailed her, Johnny packed his sniper rifle. He found a good perch and used his phone to keep in contact with Shaundi. She was on the ground and she knew what she had to do. 

The open line on his phone crackled into life. "There she is, in the beige car. Should I go talk to her?" Shaundi asked, sounding unsure.

"Yeah. Leave your phone on so I can hear, but don't tell her," Johnny answered.

She did as she was told, and Johnny watched Shaundi move through the rows of parked cars to tap on the window of the car the Boss was sitting in. Her heard the tap through the phone in her hand and winced. She must have used that hand to knock on the glass, and it echoed hard and loud to his end. From the scope on his rifle, he could see the back of her clearly, though he wasn't aiming at Shaundi or the Boss. His gaze was locked on the door to the apartment they sat outside of. The Boss had her phone in her hand too, but hadn't used it yet. He wondered if she would today.

#

Elle was amazed at how easy it was to get past an apartment complex guard once she'd done it before. The guard on duty now recognized her and let her in with a wave and a grin. Then again, she didn't do anything but sit in the parking lot for an hour and then leave, though she did have plans to probably do something, maybe. She hoped her nerve wouldn't desert her at the last moment as it had done for the past few weeks.

She sat in the car and took out her phone, killing the engine. The noise of the radio cut off with it, abruptly ending an old Beatles song. In her nervousness that morning, she hadn't even changed the radio station. She was well away from the door, but had a good view of it. Her fingers pressed the buttons to go through her contacts to find the right number. It was just a number, no name listed, but she knew whose it was. She'd even dared to press connect a few times, but chickened out at the last minute.

"Troy," Elle breathed his name into the silence of her car and then sighed. For the past two weeks she'd gotten up enough courage to come here, to call him, but never to do both at the same time. It never made it past calling and hanging up - but at least she still knew that his number was the same.

The apartment hadn't been hard to find, even though it wasn't the place she used to visit when he'd been in the Saints. She would have been surprised if it had been. Nice as the building was, it wasn't the sort of place where the Chief of Police lived. God, the Chief of Police. Troy was the Chief of Police now, an elected official, a decorated officer. What was she doing? He wouldn't want her, no matter what had passed between them years ago. In those last days, she'd been willing to give it all up for him, but things were different when she woke up. Alderman Hughes died in that blast, and everyone thought it was her doing. 

Combined with breaking her way out of prison with Carlos, she was never going to lose the mantle of gangster, monster, scourge of the good and decent people. This was never what she'd wanted, but at least it was something. There was nothing left for her but the Saints, to keep on going, not that she regretted it. What she regretted was trusting the wrong people, almost dying and losing years, but not what happened since she got up. Better to be alive and be a Saint than to be a dead scapegoat.

A tap on her window startled her so much that the phone slipped from her grip. She fumbled with it and flipped it shut. A surprisingly alert Shaundi was staring in through the glass, and Elle sighed. Of course she'd been followed; Johnny wasn't stupid. She was acting suspiciously and it had been almost two weeks since she'd started coming here off and on, hoping to see Troy and finally be able to talk to him. She clicked the lock open so that Shaundi could get into the sedan.

"What's going on, Boss?" Shaundi asked, as if they met here every day. Her purple clad ass slid smoothly onto the upholstered seat and her lieutenant grinned at her.

"Where's Johnny?" Elle asked without looking around. If he'd sent Shaundi, it was because he was up high.

"Around," Shaundi answered, confirming her thoughts. "Your hair looks good like that. What are you doing?"

Elle sighed again, but this time it was a delay. She didn't want to have to explain something so silly and personal, but she knew she had to say something or they would worry about her. She knew Johnny had followed her at least twice before, probably more than that.

"Back, before you know, when I was first in the Saint, I was in love with this man. He lives here. Since I woke up, I wanted to see him. So, that's why I keep coming here. I've been trying to see if he's still single, check things out before I make a move."

Shaundi smiled at her, the grin warm and comforting. "That's not so bad. The way you're dressed, I thought you might be trying to set up a deal or something."

Elle looked down at her clothes. They were nice, the nicest things she owned, which were still a little shabby. Secondhand jeans from Sloppy Seconds, and a shirt from On the Rag were covered with her black trench coat. It was the early days of spring, not at all warm and prone to wetness, with sunshine breaking through the clouds and just a few green shoots on trees. Her hair was uncharacteristically straight; she'd pressed it out with her flat iron and finished her look with sunglasses. She looked nice, but not too memorable and different enough from the leader of the Saints that no one hassled her when she went out.

"Nothing like that," Elle confirmed. "Go back to wherever it is you were hiding. If I'm going to be brave, I might as well do it with you two covering me. If shit gets hot, don't shoot him, I'm begging you. I can get out on my own."

"What if he's single and happy to see you?" Shaundi asked, voicing the best-case scenario that Elle hardly dared to think of, let alone voice.

She was surprised how steady her voice was when she responded, masking the trepidation Elle felt when she thought about things going well. That could encompass so many things, and reunions that started on a happy note didn't always end that way. "Then scatter and go deal with your own business while I deal with mine."

"No problem, Boss. Go get him," Shaundi said, then got out of the car and shut the door behind her. Elle was watching her retreat in the rearview mirror when Troy came out of the building.

He came out of the same door every day, at around the same time. Sloppy, even for a cop living in a gated community, but it worked to her advantage. His basic routine had been easy to learn, though his days were long and he was prone to working late into the night. The mornings almost always started off the same, and from what she'd seen that was the best time to make her move. She took out her phone again, still open to his number and pressed connect. She watched him as he made to answer it, patting himself down to locate the ringing phone on his person. If her stomach hadn't been tied in knots, the sight might have made her laugh.

"Bradshaw," the gruff voice on the other end said. Elle could see him on the phone, standing next to his car. She cleared her throat. When she didn't speak up immediately, he said, "yeah?" in an irritable grumble.

"You still wanna get pizza in Steelport?" she asked, carefully not saying her name or any other identifying information. Her heart was like a hammer in her chest, and once the words were out she stayed as still as stone, as if any movement might ruin her chances of hearing his response. 

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end, then nothing for half a beat. He was silent, considering, and sweat started to bead on her forehead. She could almost hear him thinking, figuring out what to say. 

"Yes. Absolutely. I've been hoping you'd call." He sounded strange, a little strained but also relieved. "Where are you?" he asked.

"Three rows back in the beige sedan," she answered. She was at the opposite end of the row, so she got out of the car and stood near the hood, and she saw Troy looking around for her. He hung up his phone and she slapped hers shut again, watching as he found her. Fear had her nearly rooted to the spot, and she wasn't sure whether to grin or just do nothing as he came towards her.


	2. Chapter 2

From where Shaundi sat, she heard the Boss get out of her car and slam the door behind her. She stood nervously in front of her crappy car, shifting from foot to foot. A man in the parking lot was heading towards her, and Shaundi readied her gun. Johnny was still on the phone but he said nothing except for "be ready" when she'd left the Boss.

The man was wearing a trench coat like any businessman would wear, but something about him put Shaundi on high alert. He was a cop, she could just tell. What the fuck was the Boss doing meeting a cop? Maybe he knew how to get in touch with her old boyfriend or whoever it was she was looking for. But that seemed wrong for the way the scene was playing out in front of her. The Boss was nervous, the man intent. He walked past Shaundi's car and didn't see her hiding there, his eyes only on Elle. The space between the two of them closed quickly, eaten up by the long strides of the cop coming towards the Boss. Definitely a cop now that she could see him better, he wore that stupid fucking cap. 

Then he was in front of the Boss and he didn't stop moving until he was kissing her, holding her with such a ferocity that she felt like it was almost too private to watch. The Boss kissed the cop back, knocking off that ridiculous hat and wrapping her arms around him. They stayed locked together for a minute until she broke away with a laugh, and smoothed down his mustache with both of her thumbs.

"Troy, this is making me miss your goatee," she laughed, her hands still touching his face tenderly.

"Ellie," he said her name as he kissed her neck, still holding onto her as if he were afraid to let her go. "Oh, God." He said something else, but Shaundi didn't catch it, wasn't meant to hear it.

Her mind reeled, trying to put all the pieces together. Ellie? Troy? What? Troy Bradshaw. Holy shit! The fucking Chief of Police! Shaundi could recognize him now, without the hat and once he was disentangled from the Boss. She'd seen him on the news more than a few times, especially when he was first made Chief. He used to be a Saint, back in the day, and Johnny tried to kill him after he found out that he was a cop. No wonder he'd wanted to cover the Boss when she went here. The Boss was in love with the Chief of Police! It was a good thing she'd skipped the wake and bake this morning, otherwise she wouldn't believe any of this.

"I still love you," she whispered, her voice so soft Shaundi almost missed it. Shaundi put down her gun. She really didn't need to hear this; it wasn't her business. But she did like seeing this side of the Boss. Good to know she was a person under all of that glaring and shooting.

"You were always the one." He kissed her again, then bent to pick up his hat. "Put your glasses back on when we go inside. There are a couple of security cameras," he told her. 

"We're going in?" Shaundi could hear the surprise in the Boss' tone. Apparently not even she had expected that warm of a welcome.

Shaundi watched them, frozen, unable to look away. It was like watching a movie filming right in front of her, and it was too surreal. The wind was blowing the Boss's hair around and she looked like someone completely different than the woman she knew. Her whole body seemed to be smiling, and it was all aimed at the Chief of Police. He was grinning at her, his unremarkable face made handsome by his happiness.

"Used to be I could make you come all morning. We should relive the memories," he was whispering too, but Shaundi could hear him all too well. Heeeey. Well, she had to give it to him for getting right to the point. The two of them stood there grinning at each other for a moment, saying nothing. Shaundi was afraid that they might start some kind of weird dirty talk out in the parking lot but thankfully, it was over in the next moment. The Boss was pulling down her shades and hiding behind her hair after she took the cop's hand. 

Shaundi watched them disappear into the building, the Boss leaving without so much as backward glance at them. "Scatter and take care of your business while I take care of mine," she'd said. A strange shock went through Shaundi as she realized that's exactly what the Boss meant to do - take care of herself. She'd never considered how raw it must have been for Elle to wake up after losing time, to wake up and find life had gone on in a way she'd never imagined.

When they went into the building, Johnny spoke up. She wasn't sure how much he'd heard, but it was probably more than enough. "We better get going. If she's going inside, then she knows she'll be on her own in there. I'll be down in a minute. Don't say a word about this to nobody."

"Yeah," she agreed absently. She hung up still watching the door where the Boss had disappeared, hand in hand, with the Chief of the Stilwater PD. This shit was too fucking strange to be anything but real.

#

"Turn towards me," Troy instructed. Elle did as he said, acting as she were continuing a conversation with him and not just avoiding the omniscient stare of the camera. 

He'd dropped her hand to let them both in, getting them through the electronic lock with a small key card attached to ring full of keys. Across the lobby was a concierge desk with a man in a suit sitting behind it, in front of a recessed room of shiny brass mailboxes, Elle noted with surprise. Troy lived in style, judging from the entry to his building.

"Don't you have to work today? You're dressed for it," Elle asked, keeping her voice low.

"Something came up," he said. "Come on, elevator's over here."

They got to the elevator and a few people got off and nodded at him or greeted him by his title. No one said anything to her, but Elle kept her gaze on the floor, letting her long hair hide her face. They didn't seem like they were together, she made sure of that. Her body was angled away from his as she stood, and she waited a little behind him. It wasn't until the area was clear that Troy tugged on her hand to get her into the elevator. There was no one else going up.

Nervousness ate away at the excitement she felt. Her lips still burned from their earlier kisses, but she was aware that she was putting Troy in a precarious position. For all of her excitement, the happiness she felt at being welcomed by him after so much tension, there was also an element of guilt. People bustled off towards the parking lot as they waited for the small crowd to clear. While no one noticed her this time, they would if she came around more than this once. It would be back to sneaking around for the two of them if they wanted to see each other, and this time there was more than just Julius and the Saints to worry about finding out.

He stood next to her, one hand holding hers. He gave her hand a squeeze as they stood there, going up so quickly and smooth she hardly noticed the motion. "I missed you, so much," Troy whispered. Her hidden eyes filled with tears.

The bell dinged and let them out on the top floor. "Penthouse?" Elle asked, but Troy shook his head. 

"Not exactly, but the department has a reputation to maintain and all of that."

"So this is a perk from your job?" She was almost impressed.

"Not exactly," Troy repeated, and then realization dawned on her.

"Ultor," she growled, and Troy gave her a sidelong look as he opened the door. She hadn't been awake for very long, but she was getting really fucking sick of Ultor.

He didn't answer as they went in. The door closed behind them, cutting off the light from the hall and leaving her to blink in the dim stillness of the apartment. Troy took advantage of her distraction and pinned her to the door with a kiss. It was even less restrained than the one when he'd first seen her, but this time, she too didn't hold back. There was no one else watching them now, not in the still, dark apartment. 

Without light around them, focusing on Troy was easy, too easy because it overwhelmed her senses. Elle bit at his lips when he drew back from her, gave, hard, bruising kisses that only grew in ferocity as they went on and lost all sense of time. Everything was him, her hands over the outlines of his uniform, the coat pushed away after the first few minutes. It was the two of them breathing in the same air, two bodies as close together as they could get with several layers of clothes between them. She could feel his heart beating. But mostly it was the kiss that she never wanted to end, the taste of his tongue in her mouth, lips that hadn't met her skin in years recalling all the heat that lay dormant between them and igniting it. 

The smell of his aftershave filled her nostrils and she leaned in to taste it, giving the spot under his jaw where his pulse thumped a quick lick with the tip of her tongue. She felt him shiver, heard the low growl that formed in his chest and did it again. He rewarded her with the sound once more, but then caught her mouth in another greedy kiss before she could repeat her action for a third time. Elle broke apart from him whispering his name over and over, a hand cupping his face. The years she'd slept through were pressed into every kiss, lick and bite. She may not have been awake, but every part of her had missed him.

Troy caught her wrists in his hands and stopped her onslaught of kisses. He pressed his forehead to hers, and she could feel why he ceased kissing her; he was crying. They weren't hard, heavy sobs, but the silent, creeping tears that couldn't be held in any longer. "I've waited years to hear you say my name like that again."

"I'm sorry," she began, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

"Please, Elle. We need to talk about it, but not now." Troy drew away from her for the first time. "Stay right here." he said.

"Staying," she said, giving him a shaky smile.

Troy moved away from her and picked up his hat and coat, she hadn't even realized she'd pushed the hat off his head for a second time, and threw them both over a chair. He took her coat and did the same, then went into the bedroom. The click-clack of blinds being lowered was the only noise in the quiet until Troy took out his phone.

"Yeah, I know I'm late. Don't give me that, you're supposed to be my assistant. Look, something's come up and I won't be in. It's important. I have to deal with it today and tomorrow. Shit. Well, reschedule, I won't be in. You can pass that one off, I don't need to be there. I'll check in later," he said, and ended the call. 

As he came back to the entryway where Elle still stood, Troy turned on the lights around him. For the first time she could get a good look at the place, and it was as plush as she could expect on Ultor's dime. She stood in the entry, which flowed into a large living room. Around her were large windows with wood blinds, built in bookcases with recessed lighting and hardwood floors. On her left was the kitchen, a small, well-appointed area with marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and a tiled backsplash. It connected to a dining area with a glass table and leather chairs. She wondered if he'd chosen the amenities for himself, or if he'd simply moved in when Ultor finished the building. All of her observations made her feel uneasy for some reason.

"Come on." He held out a hand to her and she took it. 

The hallway to his bedroom was longer than it looked, and her head swiveled around to take in all of her surroundings. The doors to the other rooms were open to varying degrees, and she looked in as they passed. An office behind one door, a bathroom, the laundry room, then a small bedroom that looked as if no one ever used it. The master suite was at the end of the hall, and it was there where she began to see the familiar bits of his personality in their surroundings. The leather armchair from his old apartment was in one corner of the cavernous room, but there was a very large platform bed that took center stage. It was messy, unmade, but still managed to look elegant in its own way. Expensive sheets tended to do that, in her experience.

"Shit, Troy. I can't believe you live here." Elle breathed. "This ain't apartment 310 anymore, is it?"

"I'm not here much," he said, shrugging. "But you lived at King's old place after a while. That was a real penthouse."

"Yeah, I guess I did. I never felt like I lived there, at least it never was my home. There were always other people there. It was your place that always made me feel..." she trailed off, and looked away from him. Unexpected tears stung behind her closed lids, and she swallowed hard to keep them back. She wouldn't cry, not now.

Troy dropped her hand and sat down heavily on his bed. She remained standing, opening her eyes to watch him. "A lot's changed," he said. "I just was hoping that we hadn't." 

"How I feel didn't change, because my last clear memory is of that morning. You and I were happy then, but time went by without me," Elle said. She held out her hand to Troy and he kissed it. "Has it been too long for you, Chief of Police?"

He immediately shook his head once, then twice. "No, never. I sat by your bed and told you I'd wait for you. I did. But," he laughed, the sound harsh, "you woke up and I'm a battered old cop and you're still you."

"We're still us. There's always been some shit that tries to come between us. We'll figure it out." Elle said, assuring herself in the process. She could figure this out, right? Being with the Chief of Police wouldn't be like keeping it from the Saints. This would be some whole other level shit.

But Troy pulled her to him after she said it, and she followed the summons down to the bed. He wanted her, but his uncertainty gave her pause. He knew the lay of the land better than she, and he had more to lose. She wouldn't take more than he was willing to give, but God, she wanted to have it all. Maybe it showed in her kiss, because Troy pulled her onto his lap and she lost herself in it all, the welcome familiarity of his hands getting reacquainted with her, the awkward dance of shedding clothes while trying to kiss and the strange, vulnerable joy once they finally were naked.

She planted kisses on him wherever she could, dropping them onto his back, shoulders and chin - whatever was in reach. It felt so wonderful just to kiss him, to find all his freckles and moles and kiss them too. Her fingers traced over the lines of his chest. He'd gained weight, but still had a good form, broad shouldered and strong. Troy lifted her chin as she inspected him. "Do you miss the way I looked twenty-five pounds ago?" he asked. She shook her head.

A memory flashed into her mind with his words. Troy lifting weights, and after making sure to tell Johnny how much he'd done. They'd been competitive about it, both of them and Dex, but it was friendly. There'd been much shit-talking and swaggering, but it never went past that. She remembered the way he used to look shirtless, the tanned chest and back muscles that rippled while he washed and waxed his favorite car. He was softer, paler, but he still had the tats. 

"I think years asleep might have put some weight on me too. I hurt like hell when I first got up. It takes muscles I never even knew about to stand up, let alone run. My mind still thinks I'm colt-limbed and agile, but I'm slower and heavier now."

Troy gave her an obvious once over. "You look amazing. The weight, um, suits you."

"You mean 'nice tits'," she said, and they laughed together. They both looked at them and she met his appreciative gaze when she glanced up. It was one of the many changes in her body that she'd been trying to get used to since rejoining the waking. The increase in weight had rounded out her hips so they were no longer quite so narrow, given her modest breasts and fuller thighs and butt. While Elle was still slender, she didn't resemble a stick pin quite so closely anymore.

"It's not just your tits, though they are nice," Troy said. "I've never seen your hair straightened before." He reached up to tangle a hand in her overlong hair, smoothing where their interaction had mussed it up. "And you're wearing makeup again, like that night." That night. The last time he'd seen her before the explosion. Just talking around it was awkward. It was the one thing neither one of them wanted to talk about, not right then.

"It's easier to hide in plain sight if my hair is straight," she said, ignoring the last part of his statement. "Plus, your gate guard thinks I'm cute and he doesn't try and stop me from getting in when it's like this, but the first time I came I looked like my mugshot, and he threatened to shoot me."

Troy started to respond, but Elle put a finger to his lips. "Troy, I'm getting cold," she said, and slid her hand down his shoulder as she leaned in to kiss him. 

She put all of her persuasion into her lips, intending on blocking out any doubts he had about the two of them. They'd been in love once, and she didn't want to lose what chance they had at rekindling it by talking too much. There were many more things to divide them than bring them together, and Elle didn't want to start a naked argument.

As she kissed him, she got the feeling that Troy was letting himself be persuaded, that he wanted to forget as much as she wanted to move on. For the moment, getting caught up in each other again would serve both of their desires. There was a nervousness in both of them that hadn't ever been there in the past, not even when they were keeping too many secrets. Years ago, there hadn't been so much at stake, so much to ignore. It felt like too great of a burden to put on a kiss, asking them to close the distance between them and wash away the past, but she hoped it would happen anyway, even if it was a silly hope.

"I don't have any condoms," Troy said suddenly, stopping her as she began to sling one leg across his waist.

"You don't?" When they'd been sneaking around back in the day, Troy almost always had them on him. Looking back, Elle realized it made them a little reckless, but those were happy memories. She looked over at him, but he was looking away, not caught up in memories as she'd been.

"I haven't been in a relationship." he said, and when he finally caught her side-long look at him, Troy frowned at her. "Celibacy has it's rewards," Troy answered, his tone defensive. Elle smiled at him, hoping the grin wasn't too devious.

"There's some in my coat pocket. I thought we might be 'reuniting' more than a few times. But I wouldn't want to make you do anything you don't want to do..." she trailed off, confident that his answer would be what he wanted, not just what she hoped.

"Go get them," he said in a tone that held no hesitation.

She got up from the bed and skidded out of his bedroom, clad in only a white pair of tube socks. Elle moved with speed, sure that he might change his mind if she dallied. When she came back into the room, he was right where she'd left him, laying against his pillows and chuckling to himself.

"What's funny?" she asked when she came back and he was still laughing to himself. She almost regretted asking, because just seeing him happy was enough to make her smile, and ease away some of her tension.

"The sight of you naked except for your socks, hair flying, as you slid into the hallway," he told her. "I missed you, sweetheart."

"Troy," Elle muttered his name into his mouth as she came back to the bed, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. The small box of three condoms was taken from her hand and presumably put on his nightstand, but she stopped paying attention to anything that wasn't his lips and hands, or just them entangled, falling back on the bed.

They were out of practice, both of them, but eagerness and familiarity smoothed over any awkwardness. Troy remembered more of what she liked than Elle could recall for him, but she let instinct take over and did what felt right, like she'd done it before. Some of the past was hazy in her memory, but her body enthusiastically responded to his touch.

They were already in bed, but Elle had the feeling that even if they hadn't been, Troy wouldn't have done this anyplace else. Just as she'd worn her best clothes, he wanted to create the right memories as well. His hands were gentle as they touched her, caressing and whispering as they drew invisible maps across her skin. She felt them tremble at first, but she didn't mind. 

She reached up and kissed him, and he kissed her back. It took some time for it to move from tentative and playful to intent, but they spent quite a while doing just that. Elle was content to reestablish her connection with Troy's collarbone, with the way he liked her to leave open-mouthed teeth scraping kissing along his jawline. 

The kisses delved lower as they grew more heated. Her nipples perked up, hard with anticipation and Troy didn't disappoint. His lips brushed them first, each in turn, then suckled one until he made her breathless. The grin he gave at the sound of her moan was delighted and devious. He turned his attention to the other one, teasing the already stiff point with his tongue and then sucking on it, increasingly hard until she arched against him and moaned once again. It almost hurt, but it felt too good for it to be truly painful. As he took his mouth away, her nipples pulsed as if they had tiny hearts inside of them, and she missed the warm cavern of his mouth. But Troy was moving down further, kissing her stomach with quick, distracted kisses as his hand rubbed the insides of her thighs.

Outside he had mentioned making her come all morning. Apparently, he was going to hold himself to that promise. She recalled how skilled his touch was, how he'd always listened to the rhythm of her body and what she wasn't saying with words. Time and inactivity hadn't dulled his skill. Troy was careful at first, using a finger to tease her, to draw out her own wetness. When Elle was just on the cusp of frustration, he nudged her legs open wider and nosed into the damp dark curls between her legs, licking the length of her slit.

She was going to climax just from the intensity of his touch alone. There was so much between them, pent up - a secret held too tight for too long. She could feel her own restraint crumbling under the onslaught of sensation, and knew that she would climax quickly. It caught them both by surprise; but she came hard, unable to do more than sigh in warning before her body stiffened and she arched into his face, repeating his name until it sounded strange to her own ears. Troy placed a lazy, wet kiss on her stomach before changing position. She was still hot and languid, riding the crest of her own orgasm but she wanted to touch him. A hand trailed down his chest as he got on top of her, and Elle delighted in his shiver at her touch, the way his skin felt under her palm.

She heard rather than saw him put the condom on. There was no preamble as he entered her, just the warning that it might be 'quick'. They were both over-aroused and too long parted from each other for it to be drawn out. Like their earlier kissing, it started out gentle and unsure, but didn't stay that way. He entered her carefully, letting them both get used to the sensation, and didn't move right away. Troy touched his forehead to hers, looking in Elle's eyes, exchanging breath and soft kisses. But that fell away when the urge to move became too much for her, and she tilted her hips underneath him.

That slight movement was enough to shatter the control that created their tender moment. Troy moved with long, hard thrusts and she met them all. They rocked through Elle, making her feel like she was going to come again around him, and her clenching only made her push harder. She clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around him, her body moving to their shared beat with slight movements, pinned beneath his bulk and force. Had she any presence of mind, it might have overwhelmed her, but she was just as lost as he was. It was electrifying, intense and hot; sweat ran from his body to hers, from hers into the sheets.

Troy's movements became quick, shallow and his breathing labored. Elle could feel his body drawing up, anticipating. Then she felt it, that tensing that felt like a heart skipping a beat, the way he held his breath before it all came out in a moaning rush. He didn't say her name, in fact he didn't articulate anything at all, just groaning, panting, letting it all become primal and instinctive as he worked through his climax. 

Then they were coming apart, Troy glassy-eyed but moving away, sweaty limbs untangling from hers. She rolled away from the spot where her back had glued itself to the sheets, to a cooler spot. Troy got up, still looking dazed and Elle heard him pad out the door on bare feet, then running water. He was back at her side in another minute, the condom removed and his faced rinsed with water. Elle let him envelop her in his arms, returning his embrace with sleep affection, and they cuddled wordlessly until he closed his eyes.

Troy dozed lightly next to her, his arm thrown over her waist. Even with her eyes closed and breathing back to normal, Elle found she couldn't sleep. She let herself bask in the deep contentment that rolled through her. The feeling had been largely absent from her life since she'd woken up, but she found it with Troy. By the peaceful look on Troy's face, she thought he might feel similarly.


	3. Chapter 3

Elle got up and went to the bathroom, slipping out soundlessly from under his arm. Though she hadn't meant to shift him, he woke up instantly and waited for her to come back. It was mid-morning, but the sun was hidden behind his blinds. It could have been any time of day, though Troy knew it wasn't that late. The promising bits of sunshine from earlier that morning when she'd called him had retreated behind clouds, taking the pale warmth of the day with them. It might snow again, or just rain. Troy couldn't tell.

When she came back she went into his dresser like she owned it and pulled out a shirt of his to put on. He didn't mind. Troy was unreasonably fond of Elle wearing his clothes. Years ago she had done the same thing, made up her mind to be with him and they talked, openly, honest for the first time in their relationship. He wanted that again.

She didn't realize he was awake and he did nothing to indicate he was, closing his eyes as she went by where he lay curled on the bed. Wearing only his shirt and her panties, she wasn't leaving, but he was interested in where she might go if she thought him asleep. Parts of him tensed when he heard noise from beyond his bedroom, but relaxed as he heard the clink of a glass being set on the marble counter and the refrigerator opening. 

As much as he loved her, and Troy knew he still did, there was a hesitation in him about rekindling their romance. Not only would it be more difficult to hide this time, because they would be hiding it from the whole city of Stilwater and not just a couple of gangsters, but he didn't know her anymore. Elle insisted that she hadn't changed, that it was the world that went on without her, but she was different. It bothered him that she hadn't noticed how changed she was.

Troy sifted through the clothes on the floor next to the bed, and upon finding his boxers, pulled them on. The sensitive bits of him were still too cold, so he found the pajama bottoms from the night before and put those on as well, but no shirt. The places were Elle had sunk her teeth and fingernails into his shoulders and back didn't need rough cotton rubbing against them until he could shower and ease the sting from his skin.

"Congratulations." Elle said when he went into the front room. 

"What for?" he asked, on the way to getting himself a glass of water.

"I'm staring at your master's degree. I didn't even know Criminology was a thing, but it sounds like what you studied before."

"It was similar." Troy said over his shoulder.

"You never told me you wanted to go back to school." she said, and Troy entered the living room where all of his degrees hung, framed on the wall. Elle was wearing a Stilwater PD shirt with her hair swept over one shoulder and sipped at a glass of orange juice. He came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asked instead of answering her question.

She turned, twisting from his loose embrace to look at him and considered. They said nothing for a few minutes, and he waited. Troy almost thought she wouldn't answer, but then she said, "reciprocity."

"What do you mean?"

"You've done well. Went back to school and got a fancier title, played in politics. Ain't no more walking a beat for you, or dangerous undercover missions. You have an out for when you don't feel like being an officer any more, because don't tell me that you didn't have teaching in mind for your retirement from the force."

He arched an eyebrow at her, but didn't confirm her suspicions. "Go on."

"What happened after that bombing? To you specifically, I mean."

Troy sighed. "I was made lieutenant."

"Not sergeant?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Fast-tracked. There was a vacuum of leadership after Monroe died. They needed more trustworthy people near the top."

"All of that success on my back."

Troy sputtered, "what the fuck does that mean?!"

"Who took the fall for all of that? I didn't blow Hughes up and you know it! I didn't even want to go, and then I wake up in the fucking bowels of the jail and everyone in Stilwater believes I blew Hughes fucking sky high, killed Aisha and did a whole bunch of other shit that you know full well I wasn't responsible for. So yeah, your success came at my expense. If I hadn't gone that night, I'd be living here with you now!"

That last sentence was one he'd thought of many times as he stood next to her bed. It felt like a low blow, but she was entitled to it. Elle was angry and Troy understood, even as well-worn guilt lapped over him. Everything she'd said mirrored thoughts he'd had before in the still of the nights. When his department celebrated the eradication of the Saints, when the powers that be had begun grooming him for his position as chief, those were the times he thought of her lying in a coma. 

Troy remembered that last day, that morning. 

"I don't want to go," she'd said. And he'd told her to, that he would see her that night, that Hughes could do nothing to her. He'd believed that. He'd found his scorched apartment key on a chain around her neck when they fished her unconscious body out of the water, and he'd feared she was dead. 

Without thought, he drifted over to the couch. He never sat on the thing unless he had company - it still looked new. A suede couch in a color that was between brown and grey and made him think of wet sand, Troy thought it was too nice for everyday sitting. But he sat down heavily on it, Elle looming above him with her hands on her hips.

"Alright." Troy said, giving in before he even knew her demands.

Her confusion covered her face. It was clear she'd expected some argument from him, or at least a lecture of all the things she'd missed, the nuances in police politicking that she didn't understand, but Troy just gave in. 

"What do you mean, alright?"

"You're right about all of that. But I have no idea what I could do to make it up to you."

Elle laughed and the sound wasn't as hard as he expected, though it sent a shiver through him. "I want this." She waved a hand around the room, and he looked around it without seeing. She went on, "We would probably be married now, you know that? You and your proper little quiet wife, the reformed Saint, proof positive of all the good you'd done. I want this, I want you, I want some of my stuff here, I want what we talked about and I agreed to even though it scared the shit out of me at the time."

"You want out of the Saints?" he asked, unsure.

"Fuck no. What else would I do now anyway? I broke out of prison after being in a coma. I don't exactly have a resume."

"So you want to have a relationship with me?" Troy asked, trying to clarify. "Even though I'm the chief of police and you just restarted a gang."

"It sounds stupid when you put it like that. What I want," she sat down next to him rested her head on his shoulder, "is an understanding between us. I want our personal lives to be here, and the rest out there to be dealt with as it comes. But only if that's what you want too. I can demand reciprocity all I like, but it won't mean shit if you don't want me."

He reached over and set his half-full glass on the end table that held her empty one. "Do you really think I don't want you after this morning?" he muttered in her ear. "That I wouldn't do anything you asked?"

A kiss followed that statement, his lips on her jaw and neck, big hands tucking her sheet of black hair behind her ear so he could get at her skin. He could feel her pulse and kissed it, happy to feel life thudding through her with such strength. Troy wished he were a better man, one that could either give up everything and be with her openly or get her to do the same for him. He wished he was strong enough to hold onto principles and ideals, ones like honor and justice. But he couldn't hold onto those things, not when he'd taken a deal to lay all the crimes of the Saints at her unconscious feet and move upward, towards real power. There was no way he wouldn't help her, and he'd tear apart all of Stilwater to do it, if it meant she'd stay with him a little longer. 

"I love you, Elle. I always have." he whispered. That night scared him, but not as much as the years after, when he lost hope that he'd ever see her awake again. Just thinking of it made him frightened still, angry at his own impotence in the situation after saying he'd keep her safe. One day he might be able to tell her, but not this day. 

"I love you, too." she said, the words whispered between returning his kisses.

He slipped a hand between them, just one, as they kissed. It remapped parts of her that he'd already kissed that morning, places he wanted to touch again and again. Elle moved to face him and he let the hand slip under the shirt, to feel her skin. When he delved lower, she moved into the motion of his hand, but he stilled her with a kiss.

"Can I make you come again, so I can watch?" he asked in a low whisper. She nodded, her eyes already closed. He'd been careful to ask since they'd just had sex, and she might not be up for it. But he kept his touch light just in case, watching her eyelids flutter as his knuckle grazed lightly over her wet clit.

There with just the lightest of touches between her legs and over her hard nipples, Troy brought her heat and ecstasy once more. He watched as her face changed, eyes shut and lips parted, breathing hard and then in measured, prolonging breaths. Her brow furrowed into soft lines, as if she were trying to will the pleasure into order. She never saw his smile, but felt him, her hands sliding over his shoulders and arms as Troy's slick fingers circled her again and again. There were only wordless requests between them, the tenor of her moans, the hitch of her breath. He did only as she asked, increasing his speed at her gasp, then putting a finger inside of her. When her back arched and she came with a shuddering sigh, Troy felt like he'd been witness to the only truly beautiful thing he'd seen in a very long time.

#

"About your things being here," Troy began, and then he told Elle about how April had let him clean out her storage space so she wouldn't have to pay for it. All of her things, the things she'd saved and stored from her parents and childhood, had been sitting in his laundry room in neat plastic containers bearing her name.

She wasn't sure how she felt about the revelation, but was a little relieved that he and April had decided it together. It wasn't the way she'd wanted them to know one another, but it made her feel marginally better. Her cousin had trusted him, at least enough to think he'd give her stuff a good home if she never came back to it one day.

In the containers labeled 'Ellie' in Troy's storage space, she found almost all of her things. She wasn't surprised that April let him take them, her cousin probably thought she'd be up and around in weeks, not years. Troy had taken it all, even the things she hadn't put in the storage unit. He must have gone around to all the cribs and taken her things before anyone else could get at them. There wasn't much; some clothes, a pair of shoes with money stashed into the toes, some more cash rolled into socks. She found a random hair tie and gratefully put it into use, pulling her long hair into a loose bun and off her shoulders. Though she liked straight hair, she missed the ease of her cornrows at times. The things she'd left behind at his place were there too, and she dumped the makeup and folded the old clothes in with the others. 

He'd saved everything he could of hers. There was even a bag that she'd left in her car that night she went to see him. It still carried the remains of her shopping spree, unopened containers of bubble bath and lotion that she'd picked up. Elle opened them and sniffed carefully, trying to see if the scent had gone off in the intervening years. It hadn't, not to her nose.

She poked her head around the corner and raised her voice, "do you wanna take a bath with me?" Troy appeared in the doorway of his bedroom and she held up the bottle of bubble bath. "I found this in my stuff. I meant to at least use it before I saw you, or with you."

Something about that statement made Troy go still, and she wasn't sure what it was. When he did move again, he came over to her and took the slender glass bottle from her hand. After taking a tentative sniff, he handed it back to her. 

"Fuck yes," he said, grinning at her. "Come on. I could absolutely use a bath after the morning we had."

Elle laughed a little as she followed him into the master bath. She'd come in here before to wash up earlier, and like most of his place, it was impressive. There was a separate glass shower stall and jacuzzi tub, a divider wall between the bathing part of the room and the toilet, and a large mirror that ran the length of the room. The double vanity was wasted on Troy alone, because he restricted himself to one sink for the most part. His razors and leather bag that held the rest of his shaving kit were near the sink closest to the door, taking up a small corner of the massive vanity.

She watched him fill the oversized tub but he let her dole out the bubbles. When it was high enough, she stripped and got in, Troy doing the same. The bubbles covered up to her chest even though the water wasn't nearly as high, the air scented with a candied floral scent that smelled vaguely familiar.

It took them a while to get properly situated with the bubbles and the water. Finally, she rested her back against his chest and was again reminded of that last night they spent together before. Elle closed her eyes as she leaned against him. This felt right.

"You determined to get to years worth of dating in one go, or are we going to spread it out a bit?" Troy asked her, teasing in his voice. She didn't really think he minded all of this closeness, since he seemed just as starved for it as she was. Elle shook her head.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need this, all of it. I'm so." she stopped, gathering her thoughts, "fucked up."

She felt Troy sigh behind her, his chest heaving against her back. "I don't think you're fucked up. This is a lot to deal with."

His words did nothing to assuage her feelings, and she shook her head once more. "Do you know about Pompeii?" she asked.

Troy thought for a moment then said, "yeah, Mount Vesuvius right? It erupted and covered the whole town in ash and killed everyone." When she didn't answer he prompted her, "I didn't think you were into history. Why did you ask?"

"I watched a special about it one night on public television when I couldn't sleep," she said. "It just killed people as they went about their life, trapping them forever as statues. That's how I feel. But with water instead of ash, filling my lungs, freezing me in time until I woke up. I might have been a statue in that hospital for all that time, and then I'm back. Everything inside of me is still confused, even when I check the date or talk to Johnny or sit here with you like this."

Finally, at long last, Elle began to cry. It was hard and sudden, and the sobs took her over in an instant. They weren't graceful or elegant, but choking and sputtering and ugly in their necessity. It was as if all her confusion and uncertainty and rage had coalesced in her chest into a feeling she could no longer keep inside. Troy rubbed her back in soapy circles as she cried, her tears falling into the bathwater. He kept one arm around her waist under the water, holding her up when she went limp as a ragdoll from the exertion. When it began to subside, she got out of the water to get tissue to blow her running nose. When she got back in, Troy kissed her hand.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"A little."

"Ellie, it's hard because it's trauma. You lived through some shit, I won't lie. Other people died, and you almost did. Dealing with death does something to you, and you can't look at life the same anymore." He drew in a breath and Elle realized that he was talking about himself, about something she didn't know about, but he didn't elaborate. Instead he went on comforting her. "But you're here with me, and while I can't make it up to you or get your time back, I will do all I can to make it easier on you. Whatever you want."

She smiled before remembering he couldn't see it, and settled for squeezing his hand. "That sounded a little practiced, but I appreciate it." she said.

Troy laughed, it was light in her ear and it made Elle's grin wider. "Well, I had a long time to think about what I wanted to say to you. I did say it to you in the hospital a few times. Those were practice runs. Plus you know I studied psych, for whatever that's worth. It's going to be hard for a long time, but I'm here for you."

She shifted her legs around, watching the water and soap drip from them as she raised her knees above the waterline. Her skin glistened in the light, glowing like bronze. Other than that, she didn't move, just rested against him, letting his embrace be her sanctuary.

#

After the bath, they took a nap together. It felt blissful to just sleep, to feel Elle there in his arms, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths. All of the excess energy he'd gained from being with her was ebbing away, their routine of confrontations and fucking and draining talks driving it off. He had imagined this day as a miserable one, but it wasn't - it was complicated, never as good as he'd dreamed or as bad as he'd feared. Elle wanted him, wanted them, and that was more than he'd ever hoped. When he woke up Troy felt better than he had in a long time, at least in spirit if not body. Part of him ached that hadn't hurt for a long time, but that didn't matter.

In the kitchen he set to work making them a large lunch, because it was late and they'd been so caught up in each other earlier. When he finished, he got it all together on a tray and took it into the bedroom. Even though he'd been teasing Ellie earlier about wanting to get years worth of dating into two days, he wasn't immune to the desire himself, and the romantic in him wanted to surprise her with food in bed.

It worked. She was still asleep when he came in and set the tray on a small table. He woke her without getting back in the bed, careful not to startle her. Elle had been jumpy in the past, but he wasn't sure how she'd be after so long. Troy watched lazy wakefulness spread across her face as she cracked an eye open, then shut it dramatically. She stretched like a cat under his gaze, making him glad he wasn't still holding the tray. 

Elle wrapped her long legs around him, enveloping him and Troy took the time to appreciate them. He'd always loved her legs, which seemed unnaturally long even though they were the same height. His own pair lacked the appeal of hers, and he let a palm skim up the length of one. Her skin was soft from their earlier bath, and shone dully in the light. 

Troy was thinking about if he could have her again right then and maybe once more that night, but decided that would be pushing the bounds of his endurance. He wasn't in his twenties anymore, but God, he wanted to pretend he was for just one more day. There was no way he'd be able to get an extra day off tomorrow, and he'd need it just to recover. He was ready to heave a frustrated sigh, but her legs pulled him tighter, so close he could feel the sleepy warmth of her body.

He was letting himself be drawn into her, by the legs pulling on him, the foot rubbing up his spine - but then his phone rang. The noise of it seemed out of place, tinny and small as it came from the nightstand drawer. In one swift movement, she pushed herself to a sitting position, her legs gone from around him as she folded them neatly beneath her on his bed. Troy leaned over to locate the phone and ignored the call.

"You gonna do that with everything?" Elle asked. He knew she wasn't just talking about the phone call, but he stalled to have a chance to think.

"Wasn't important," he said.

"You know what I mean, Troy." She made a face at him that almost reminded him of Julius, but he shook that thought from his head.

He sat down on the bed, getting in from the other side. He took the phone with him. There would be another phone call eventually. "You remember what the Saints were about? Taking back the Row, making it a decent place to live?" he asked.

"Of course. I was shot there, if you recall."

"I do. And I know that there was a lot of stuff said about making Stilwater safe again for regular people, bringing back the Row as a place to live. I don't know if we did that, but whatever good we did has been erased by the gangs here now," Troy said. He looked closely at her, examining her face. "The Brotherhood is...they lean on Ultor pretty hard. Every bit of strength the Los Carnales had, they've got now."

Elle laughed softly, she couldn't help it. "You still say it wrong."

"Shit. You know what I mean though, Angelo, Hector and all of them - the Carnales. Ellie, this is more dangerous than it was before. I can't ignore everything, but if the Saints were to come back and shut down some of these gangs, they'd have the gratitude of the Stilwater PD. To an extent."

She'd taken a sandwich off the tray while he spoke and was tearing it into little pieces to eat. She was still looking down at it when she whispered, "I don't want you to do that."

Troy would have laughed, if he hadn't realized she was being completely earnest with him. "Ellie, that's the way these things work. No one gets by on their own. Better me than Hughes, right?"

When she continued eating and not looking at him, he sighed. "I would do it for the Saints anyway, even if I didn't feel the way I do about you. But I want you safe if you're doing this. I'll do everything I can for you, even if I can't for the Saints."

"Safe?" she laughed the word, and Troy nearly winced from the hardness of it. She noticed and stopped, reaching out to him. "That was shitty of me. I know you mean it, but I hate putting you in this place. You sure you don't want to just say fuck it all run with me again?"

"Ellie."

"Fine, fine." She looked around the room and took the tray in her lap so she could better pick at the food on it. "So we've still got the rest of today and tonight. How about a movie marathon of some sort?"

"So that's it, you just want to watch movies?" 

"I've got a lot to catch up on. Don't want to argue this out with you right now. There's too much on my mind. A movie would do nicely," she said, and Troy nodded his agreement.

"What do you feel like?" he asked, reaching over to retrieve his remote. He clicked on the television, and it picked up where he'd left off the night before watching sports highlights.

She shrugged in answer to his question, the movement much less elegant than it would have been if she wasn't stuffing food into her mouth. But Troy took up his own sandwich and found the guide channel, so Elle could pick at her leisure. There was more to be said between them, but they'd done enough for one day. Time would help them sort this all out.

The next morning they parted ways, he going back to work and Elle getting in her worn out car and doing whatever it was she had to do next. Johnny had called her once the night before, but other than that contact, the Saints had been quieter than the police department. He'd have to work late for the next few nights to make up the time he'd spent with Elle, but Troy found it a fair trade.

Before she left, he held his hand out to her, and Elle took it. Troy dropped a key in her palm.

"You trust me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him when she examined what he'd given her.

"I gave you one before and you never had the chance to use it. Come home this time," he said.

It was an order if he'd ever given one, but it was up to her to enforce it. She'd nodded as she closed her hand around it, then tucked it into a coat pocket. Troy hoped she would come home to him, but even after all their talk, wasn't sure. One day of reuniting and passion wasn't going to make up for all that was between them. He pulled his cap down low on his head. The Stilwater PD were about to get a few new directives for dealing with the Saints.


End file.
